


Elegant, But Not Graceful

by ArchangelUnmei



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Christmas, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5809141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelUnmei/pseuds/ArchangelUnmei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christmas at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a time of mixed blessings. On the one hand, many of the students went home, but on the other, the ones who remained were usually troublemakers. Elaine Kirkland, proud Slytherin graduate and current professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, was beginning to seriously regret offering to stay over hols as a chaperon, even if it did mean avoiding Christmas with her siblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elegant, But Not Graceful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mysconesaredelicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysconesaredelicious/gifts).



> Written for Mysconesaredelicious on tumblr, as part of the FrUK New Years Gift Exchange. I managed to combine all three wishes, which were 1) Human AU: Marianne hosts a Christmas party for her co-workers and Arthur gets drunk enough to confess his love, 2) Harry Potter AU including some sort of affection spell/love potion, and 3) Fireplace cuddling.
> 
> Hopefully this will suffice. :)

Christmas at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a time of mixed blessings. On the one hand, many of the students went home, but on the other, the ones who remained were usually troublemakers. Elaine Kirkland, proud Slytherin graduate and current professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, was beginning to seriously regret offering to stay over hols as a chaperon, even if it did mean avoiding Christmas with her siblings.

"I believe this is yours?" 

Elaine bristled even before she looked up from her books. The voice was familiar, (deliberately smug and almost purring, that wicked little half smile with ruby red lips and so damnably _French_ ) but Elaine wasn't expecting two figures in the doorway. 

Marianne Bonnefoy did indeed look smug and amused. Since classes weren't in session, she wasn't even wearing proper robes, choosing instead exquisitely tailored dress slacks and a tight-fitting sweater, Ravenclaw blue with little silver snowflakes along the hem and down the sleeves. Her hair was swept back into an artfully messy knot at the back of her head, and her beautifully manicured nails (French tips, of _course_ ) were delicately pinching the ear of the boy standing beside her. 

Elaine groaned, and seriously considered just closing the door in their faces and pretending she had nothing to do with either of them. Alfred Jones-Kirkland was a fifth-year Gryffindor and nearly taller than Marianne, bent sideways at a slightly awkward angle since she refused to release his ear, looking both sheepish and pained at the same time. "Hi Lainey." 

"Don't 'hi Lainey' me," Elaine narrowed her eyes at them. Alfred couldn't lie to save his life, and he definitely had the look of someone who'd been into something he knew he shouldn't be. "What were you doing?" 

"I found him in my supply room," Marianne answered for him, eyeballing the boy herself and looking a bit less amused. "Though I can't get him to admit what he was after." 

"I was just looking!" Alfred insisted, still trying for a slightly pained grin. "I wanted to see if I could figure out what we were going to study in the new year." 

Both women snorted nearly in unison. "The day you study ahead of time is the day I eat my wand," Elaine said matter-of-factly. "That sounds far more like..." She paused, and Alfred's suddenly increased fidgeting all but confirmed her worst suspicions. "Where's your brother?" 

Marianne started, looking surprised and then chagrined. "I can't believe I forgot about Matthew." 

"Where there's one, the other will be," Elaine nodded, pinning Alfred under her stare. "Well?" 

"Back in the dorms!" Alfred answered, a little too hurriedly. 

Elaine sighed, since by the time they got there to check, Matthew would almost certainly be reading in front of the fire in perfect innocence. She took off her glasses, rubbing at the bridge of her nose for a moment. "Why didn't you just take him to his Head of House, frog?" 

"You're his cousin," Marianne pointed out, looking amused again. "Besides, I don't have any proof he actually took anything." 

Elaine rolled her eyes, slipping her glasses back on. "Like I want to deal with him any more than you do?" She ignored Alfred's wounded look and waved a hand at them. "Let him go if you don't have any proof. I doubt he or Matthew actually mean to do anything malicious." They were both a bit notorious for pranks, but Elaine was fairly confident they'd learned their lesson the last time they tried something on _her_ , and therefore she was safe from whatever they had planned to liven up Christmas. 

Alfred beamed as Marianne sniffed something about nepotism and let him go. "Thanks Lainey!" He gave them both a playful little bow, and Marianne muffled an indulgent laugh as he left. Elaine just rolled her eyes again, well used to Alfred's antics. "Do you really have no idea what he was up to?" 

"No, not at all," Marianne shook her head, stepping into the room even though Elaine hadn't invited her. She ignored Elaine's pointed glare, perching on the edge of her desk. "He didn't even have his hand on anything to give me a clue." 

"And he and Matt are both at least decent at potions, so that doesn't narrow it down," Elaine mused, prodding at Marianne's thigh with the end of her pencil. Marianne huffed at her, but stubbornly refused to move. "I suppose we'll find out what it is when they spring it." 

Marianne made a little agreeing noise, apparently more interested in taking Elaine's pencil away from her so she couldn't continue to prod. "Don't eat or drink anything if you don't know where it's been." 

"Oh hell," Elaine groaned. "The party." The Christmas Eve staff party was a Hogwarts tradition, at least on the years there wasn't a Yule Ball taking everyone's attention instead. 

Marianne looked positively delighted. "Live entertainment, excellent." 

Elaine glared and prodded her with the pencil again, hard enough that Marianne made a pained noise and swiped at her hand. "You _would_ find it funny, frog. Why are you still here?" 

"Because I haven't left yet," Marianne said, with such an air of superiority that Elaine twitched, seriously considering jabbing her with something much sharper than a pencil. Marianne laughed at her expression, and Elaine felt her cheeks grow warm. 

"Get your arse off my desk," she growled, raising the pencil threateningly. 

Marianne didn't seem intimidated, but slid off the desk in any case, blowing Elaine a kiss as she did. "How cruel you are, but I must go and be ready for the party in any case. I'll see you there?" 

She might have looked genuinely hopeful, but Elaine was probably imagining it. Their relationship was a complicated one (thinking about it too much gave Elaine a headache), built mostly on antagonism, but they'd never really come to blows. They insulted each other at every turn, but yet... Elaine's eyes followed Marianne as she left, and then she pinched herself sharply in reprimand (there was almost a permanent bruise). 

"Stop it, Kirkland," she muttered to herself, well aware that she wouldn't. 

+++++++++ 

Elaine had never been much of one for parties. During her school years, she'd always done her best to escape the common room as soon as she could, doing her homework sitting cross-legged on her bed and trying to ignore the noise. The Triwizard Tournement had been held in her sixth year, and she'd spent most of the Yule Ball lurking in the corners of the Great Hall, feeling awkward and gawky in her fancy robes and wobbling heels. She'd kicked the shoes off sometime around midnight and never been able to find them again. 

Now, Hogwarts staff parties were no better. Elaine found it hard to believe that some of her supposed coworkers had graduated at all, nevermind that many of them had respected careers behind them. Gilbert Beilschmidt, the flight instructor and Quidditch coach, had been a pro Quidditch player himself for several seasons before deciding to retire, and Eliza Herdervary, the Charms teacher, would probably still be running around Europe as an Auror if a fairly gruesome injury hadn't left her with a slight limp. Elaine herself had been an Auror as well just after graduation, though mostly working domestically, dealing with various creatures and disturbances that popped up within Britain. 

As the niece of the French Minister of Magic at the time, Marianne had gone to Beauxbatons for her schooling. From the stories she'd told, Elaine didn't think it was much different from Hogwarts, though perhaps a little more modern and sleek, and of course it didn't have the same House system. Marianne had been sorted by the Hogwarts hat once she was hired on to teach Potions, and to everyone's surprise (including her own), it had placed her as a Ravenclaw. 

It was the year after Marianne was hired that the old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had retired, and the Headmaster had offered the position to Elaine. She suspected it had more to do with her very old and very illustrious surname than any of her own accomplishments; more than a few Kirklands had been Hogwarts staff and even Headmasters over the years. 

(The Kirklands themselves always held the official position that their lineage couldn't be traced back farther than the 1300's, too many records were lost or destroyed around that time. But even so, there were certain circles that whispered with conviction, and a sort of more general wondering belief, that Merlin had been a Kirkland.) 

For her part, Elaine took up her usual party-post by a window, a little sheltered and away from everyone else. The party was held in the staff room, a sprawling area about half the size of the Great Hall that Elaine cynically thought of as the common room for the professors, located in the hidden hallway that also contained most of their private quarters, inaccessible to students. She leaned back against the wall, glass of firewhiskey in one hand, surveying the rest of the room. (It was a juvenile drink, but Elaine had never quite been able to outgrow her fondness for it.) 

Marianne was almost directly across from her, still wearing that same sweater but trousers exchanged for an unseasonably short skirt and with the addition of some glittery jewelry and probably (knowing Marianne) a perfume that would make Elaine sneeze. She was, as usual, the picture of charm and poise, wine glass held delicately in one hand as she laughed at something Gilbert was telling her. 

The curtains rustled beside her, distracting Elaine enough to realize she'd been staring. Luckily neither Gilbert nor Marianne had noticed, she'd never hear the end of it. The curtains moved again, brushing her arm, and she frowned. She didn't feel any draft, at least not one strong enough to move the heavy damask curtains. Strange. She was about to take a drink to steady herself, but a warm arm settled over her shoulders, a familiar hand plucking her drink out of her grip with a cheerful "Ah, whiskey!" 

Elaine's practiced elbow caught Antonio in the ribs, but he just 'oomph'ed and drained her drink all in one go, much to her disgruntlement. The bottle was all the way back in her rooms, she hadn't anticipated a need to refill this early. " _Tony_ -" 

He just grinned at her, unrepentant as always. He'd been a year below her in school, and a Hufflepuff besides, but they'd dated a little in their fifth and sixth years before they'd both come to some slightly embarrassing conclusions. (Antonio liked everyone, really, but especially the abrasive grandson of the Italian deputy minister. Elaine wished him luck with _that_ mess; she wasn't sure about men anymore at all.) They'd remained friends, however, and it had been Elaine's recommendation that got him the job of Hogwarts groundskeeper, which he excelled at. 

Cheeky, he offered her the empty glass back, and she nearly made a go of breaking it over his head, but managed to restrain herself. It was _Christmas_ , after all. She settled for snatching the glass and muttering a few choice words not really under her breath, which only made him laugh, his arm still around her shoulders in easy familiarity. "She looks lovely tonight, doesn't she?" 

The comment, apparently with no context, made Elaine blink and glance up at him. "She...?" She followed his gaze, which led across the room to Marianne and Gilbert, and frowned in confusion. "I suppose, but she wears that sort of thing all the time. Perhaps it's a new lipstick?" She ignored the weird warm sinking feeling in her gut, choosing to blame it on the bit of whiskey she _had_ gotten to ingest. 

"No, I'm sure she's much more beautiful than usual." Antonio had a dopey smile on his face, like when Lovino Vargas was in the papers and his pictures gave them the finger, only worse. Without further word he removed his arm from Elaine's shoulders and started across the room. Elaine, confused and a slight bit concerned, trailed after him. 

Gilbert looked up at their approach and grinned, raising a hand in greeting. "Hey-" 

Antonio paid him no attention, cutting between him and Marianne so that he could wrap his arms around her, pulling her body against his as he caught her in a passionate Spanish kiss. 

Elaine turned red to the roots of her hair, frozen in some mix of mortification and an unexpectedly hot flash of rage. Marianne gave a muffled yelp, squirming in Antonio's embrace, and tangled one hand in his curly hair to try and dissuade him. Gilbert, his own expression a mix of surprise and amusement warring with an odd shade of dismay, reached out to catch Antonio by the collar and pull him more firmly backward, releasing Marianne at last. She gasped for breath, flushed a hot red all the way down her throat and eyes large. 

"The hell is wrong with you, Antonio?" Gilbert frowned, especially when Antonio tried to wiggle out of his hold, gaze still fixed adoringly on Marianne. 

He didn't answer Gilbert directly, just held out a hand to Marianne, who recoiled a bit. "Please, bella, you are so wonderful, and I do love you so much. Won't you let me kiss you?" 

This time the stab of pain had nothing to do with whiskey at all, and before she knew what she was doing Elaine had taken a step forward and taken hold of Marianne's arm, possessively. She ignored Gilbert's raised eyebrows and instead glared at Antonio. "I think that's quite enough. Gil, have him hauled down to the med wing, clearly he's had too much to drink." 

"Sure," Gilbert nodded, bemused and not loosening his grip on the still squirming Antonio. 

"And what about us, hm?" Elaine jerked slightly in surprise and looked up at Marianne; she'd almost forgotten she was clutching the woman's arm. She rallied herself though, ignoring the warm, slightly wistful way Marianne was looking down at her. (It was just her imagination, anyway.) 

" _We_ will go get more firewhiskey, since Antonio drank it all." 

Marianne hummed thoughtfully, but didn't resist when Elaine, still pink-cheeked, dragged her out into the hall and down it, to the door marked "E. Kirkland". 

Elaine shut the door behind them, checking twice to be sure it was actually locked. By the time she turned, Marianne was sprawled out across her couch, flushed from amusement and wine and already shoeless. Elaine huffed a laugh of her own, and since these were _her_ rooms, dammit, didn't hesitate to kick her own wobbly shoes off into the corner. 

She padded over to her small kitchenette to retrieve the bottle of excellent firewhiskey she'd bought earlier in the week, and only then did she hesitate, suddenly unsure of where to sit. Marianne, as always, read her expression easily and rolled her eyes, shifting around to transfer her feet to the coffee table and give Elaine half the couch. 

Elaine had left the fire burning banked, since she preferred the real warmth of a fire to the strange, slightly stale quality of magical heating in a building this old, spells layered up on the stones over time until even the newest spells weren't as effective as they should be. As Elaine came over to sit beside her, Marianne drew her wand and lazily called the fire up into fuller flame. Elaine murmured a thanks, settling beside her and passing her the bottle, propping her feet up parallel to Marianne's. 

For a few minutes they talked of nothing much; Quidditch Cup prospects for the year, problem students, how strange Antonio had been. 

But then, "Do you remember the Yule Ball?" Marianne asked suddenly, head tipped against the back of the couch and hair starting to come down around her shoulders, staring at the ceiling. 

Elaine looked at her in surprise, but didn't even have to ask which one she meant, even though they'd both attended their share since becoming Hogwarts staff. 

"Of course I do, you were the star of the bloody show." 

Marianne tilted her head enough to give her a bemused look. "I was?" 

Elaine snorted, crossing her arms and trying (failing) to suppress old, lingering bitterness. (Well, bitterness was too strong a word; something a little fainter, gone dull with years and grey at the edges, a spice left too long in the cabinet, potency gone.) Drunkenness wasn't helping, but she grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey to take another long pull anyway. "You were so flashy no one was even paying attention to the _actual_ champions. You wore those gaudy red robes-" 

"They were lovely!" Marianne protested defensively. "That was real gold thread in the embroidery-" 

Elaine snorted again. "Fancied yourself a Gryffindor?" She gave Marianne a sly sideways look, made darker by the whiskey. "Or fancied you'd _catch_ yourself a Gryffindor?" 

Marianne coloured, hand tightening around the bottle of wine Elaine had reluctantly fetched for her (perhaps to smack Elaine with it), but her voice stayed steady. "Hardly. I was perfectly happy to be sorted into Ravenclaw." 

"Mm," Elaine was just drunk enough she latched onto the fact that Marianne hadn't answered the second question, even though some back corner of her mind was telling her firmly that she should _stop_ , before she got answers she didn't really want at all. "That's good, Gryffindor boys like Ravenclaw girls. My dad and mum are Gryffindor and Ravenclaw." 

"Oh," Marianne looked at her, a little uncertain, and Elaine decided it was better to look at the wall instead, especially since her traitorous tongue wouldn't shut up. 

"Better Ravenclaw than Slytherin anyway, no one looks at Slytherin girls except Slytherin boys, and most Slytherin boys I just want to kick in the nuts." 

"Oh," Marianne said again, face so full of pity that Elaine snarled at her and took a long drink of whiskey to wash down the embarrassment. And it _must_ have been the whiskey, not her own regrets and the memories of Marianne in those stunning red robes, that was to blame for what came out of her mouth next. 

"I spent that whole night wishing I could ask you to dance." 

Marianne, for once, was silent, and when Elaine chanced a look her eyes were very wide, all dark lashes and jewel tones. "I wish you had," her voice was hushed like she was telling some great secret. (Maybe she was.) "It was _so_ dull, a dance with you might have livened it up." 

" _Dull_?" Elaine was not prepared to try and figure out if Marianne had just given her compliment or insult, and instead ignored it. "How was it dull, I watched you dance with every boy from three schools and four years!" 

"Oh, boys," the look on Marianne's face was a perfect study between exasperation and disgust. "All of them taking turns between stepping on my toes and staring down the front of my dress. None of them had anything interesting to say, they just wanted to be able to boast to their friends that they'd danced with me." 

Elaine didn't know how to answer that, mouth gone a little dry as she looked at the oddly sad expression on Marianne's face. "...I wish I'd asked you to dance." 

"Yes, you said that," Marianne smiled over at her, but it wasn't her usual smile, this one a little softer, like a secret, just a little lifting at the corner of her mouth. "You'd probably still step on my toes, though." 

Elaine flushed, but couldn't quite deny that. She and Antonio had just broken up, but Gilbert actually _had_ asked her for a dance at that Yule Ball, and they'd both ended up with bruised ribs from sharp elbows and a rip up the hem of her dress that Gilbert had actually very apologetically mended for her. 

_("You've been staring at that French bird all night," he'd said, leaning against her shoulder and ignoring her batting at him. "You know she doesn't know you exist."_

_"I know," she'd answered crossly, shoving him off at last. "And she'll be gone at the end of the year and I'll never see her stupid pretty French face again."_

_And Gilbert, who couldn't transfigure his way out of a wet paper bag but had always been strangely aces at divination, just laughed and asked her to dance.)_

It had been strange and disorienting and a little dismaying when Elaine arrived back at Hogwarts, armed with determination, a teaching contract, and half-finished lesson plans. She'd nearly combusted in absolute mortification the first time she walked into the Great Hall to find Marianne sitting at the head table, sipping her soup and chatting with Eliza. Suddenly she wasn't a far away French beauty that was making Elaine question her sexuality, she was up close and far too personal, and to her own private dismay Elaine found her _annoying_. 

Annoying, but in a strange sort of way Elaine had grown truly fond of her too, and she wondered sometimes what was wrong with her, that she both hated and adored this woman in turns, often several turns per day. It was dizzying, and maddening, and Elaine did her best to be prickly enough that Marianne would just leave her alone, but she never did. 

"I never would," Marianne murmured, very close against her ear, and in one heart-stopping moment Elaine wondered how much of that she'd _just said aloud_. It was apparently enough, because Marianne reached over to pry the whiskey bottle from Elaine's white-knuckled fingers, leaning forward to set it on the table where it would be safe. 

Then she turned back to Elaine, her eyes glowing deep and bright with reflected fire, and Elaine was muzzily reminded of a very small but rather overzealous dragon she'd once met in a sheep pasture in Wales. She still had scars from that dragon. It had been a good dragon. 

"Elaine," Marianne's voice was patient and amused, Elaine's attention snapping back to her with an embarrassed flush, hands curled tightly in her lap now for lack of a bottle to hold on to. Marianne reached out, cupping her hands gently around Elaine's face like she was coaxing a skittish cat. "I'm ashamed to say I never did notice you when I was here all those years ago, but I wish I had. You are a delight and a wonder, even if you are all teeth." 

Elaine stiffened and nearly bit her, but Marianne just grinned, bright and warm and everything Elaine thought she'd _never_ see turned on her, and then Marianne leaned in and kissed her. 

It was brief and a little clumsy, sticky with wine and sharp with whiskey, but Elaine's hands moved quite without consulting her to grab Marianne by the sweater and make sure she wasn't going anywhere. 

Marianne drew back just enough to give her a bemused look. "If you stretch it I shan't ever forgive you." 

Elaine grumbled something that might have been 'If you don't kiss me again I'll never forgive _you_ ', and Marianne laughed at her, but then obliged. 

In the end, Matthew and Alfred lost twenty-five points apiece for Gryffindor for trying to poison their teachers by spiking the drinks at the party (Elaine's words). Matthew tried to protest that since it happened over hols it shouldn't count, while Alfred's defense was "It was only _one_ drink, Lainey, and it was supposed to be _yours_." She failed to be amused by that. 

Later, quietly, Gilbert retrieved his invisibility cloak from Matthew and gave the boys thirty points each for managing what he'd been trying to do for nearly fifteen years. 

(Even if only by accident.)

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea who their Headmaster is and I'm scared of most of the possibilities.


End file.
